Some Kind of Wonderful -- Out now from Avon Books A rough-around-the-edges reporter, a romantic wedding designer, and an adorable baby on the doorstep ... Read Reviews | Read Excerpt

The Latest Reviews...

"An emotional roller-coaster, it's also tender and charming." Heartstrings Reviews.

"A heartwarming and sometimes heartwrenching story. Strong characters, believable storyline and true romance makes Some Kind of Wonderful, well, wonderful!" Romance Readers Connection "Freethy is an expert at creating believable characters." Library Journal

The title says it all: SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL is exactly that. Ms. Freethy delivers another powerful and moving story that includes a touch of the paranormal for a very poignant and satisfying ending. But start this book early -- it's an all-nighter!" AOL Fiction Forum

Chapter One

Cool wet fingers of fog brushed against his face as Matt Winters walked up the hill to his San Francisco apartment building. At the sound of a siren, he automatically stiffened. He'd been chasing ambulances for so long he couldn't help but wonder what new story was developing, what tragedy was unfolding, what family was about to receive an unwelcome late-night phone call.

As the siren drew closer, he glanced down the street behind him. All was quiet. Parked cars, shadowy buildings. The light from the street lamps broke the darkness,but nothing looked out of place. Still, Matt felt the prickles of uneasiness stab the skin on the back of his neck. He felt like someone was watching him, and his instincts screamed caution even though his brain couldn't figure out why.

Taking one last look down the street behind him, he moved to unlock the front door of his apartment building. He frowned when he saw that the door was ajar and the lock appeared to be jammed. Matt wasn't particularly concerned about his barely furnished apartment or even his own safety. He'd lived in places far more dangerous than this. The broken lock aggravated his sense that something was wrong, but a quick look around the lobby revealed nothing amiss.

With a weary sigh, Matt pressed the elevator call button and rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. He hadn't slept more than three hours in a row in the last seventy-two. He'd been chasing a news story, following a money trail that had led him straight up the steps of City Hall. Tomorrow the rest of San Francisco would read about the corruption of one of its supervisors in the morming edition of The Herald.

His mission accomplished, Matt should have been feeling satisified. Instead, he felt restless, once again reminded that no matter how many truths he unveiled, no matter how many mysteries he solved, he couldn't solve the one that mattered most.

Matt pressed the elevator button again, hating himself for not being able to let go of the past. How ironic that he lived his life in search of the truth, yet couldn't seem to accept it when it stared him in the face.

That need for closure, the desire to stop the endless hunger, the unquenchable thist for answers had brought him back to San Francisco, the place where it had started and where it had ended.

Finally, the elevator doors opened. A minute later, Matt stepped onto the tenth-floor landing and walked down the hall to his apartment. He let himself in just in time to catch the phone before the machine picked up. "Winters," he said abruptly.

There was no reply, just the sound of someone breathing. A prank call, an informant, a threat? He didn't know which.

"Matt?" It was barely a whisper, so hushed he couldn't tell if it was a female or a male.

"Who is this?" No answer. "Look, I don't have time to --"

The sound of a click, then the dial tone, told him the caller had hung up. Out of habit, he wrote down the caller ID number. It wasn't one he recognized, but he'd check it out later. He was simply too tired to deal with one more thing tonight.

Tossing his car keys onto the dining room table, he looked around his barely furnished living room. At some point, he'd have to invest in some furniture -- or maybe not. Who knew how long he'd stay in San Francisco? Who knew how long he'd stay anywhere? His life had been a series of entrances and exits, new places, new faces.

Speaking of new faces, Matt frowned at the sound of a baby crying. He had yet to meet any of his neighbors, but he was certain he lived in an adults-only building, so where was the crying coming from? He walked over to the door and opened it, but there was no one there. Actually, there was someone there, way down there ...

On the floor, in a car seat, was a tiny baby with a few strands of fuzzy black hair on its head, red cheeks, teary eyes, and a mouth that screamed in fury. "What the hell?" Matt looked around the empty hallway, wondering where on earth the baby's mother was.

"Okay, just be quiet for a second, would you?" He squatted down next to the baby and patted the baby's head, which only seemed to make him -- or was that her? -- more angry."

"Where is your mother?" Matt looked at the door across the hall and hesitated. There appeared to be a light on, but it was almost midnight. Still, what choice did he have? Leaning over, he pounded on the door. A moment later, a female called out, "Who is it?"

"It's your neightbor."

"I can't see you," she said warily.

Matt stood up and looked into her peephole. "I'm here."

"What were you doing on the floor?"

"Looking at your baby."

"My what?"

"Open the door, would you?"

"I don't think so."

"Look, we have a problem out here. Somone left a baby in the hall."

Silence followed, then she said, "All right. But I have my phone and I've already dialed 9-1, so if you're trying something funny --"

"I'm not."

Another brief pause, then the door opened the width of a security chain. A woman's face appeared in the crack, a vision of blond curls, white lace, and some sort of filmy veil.

Matt blinked rapidly, wondering if he'd conjured up a bride to go with the baby on his doorstep.

The woman pulled the veil away from her face, and he saw that her cheeks were flushed, her brown eyes overly bright. "What do you want?" she asked, a breathless note in her voice.

"Your baby is crying." He pointed to the infant, who made a liar out of him by sitting quietly in the car seat, considering the two of them with a confused expression.

The woman peered around him. "I don't have a baby."

"You must. It sure as hell isn't my baby."

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously. "Why are you trying to get rid of your baby?"

"It's not mine," he repeated. "And I live there." He pointed to his door. "I'm your neighbor."

Her wary gaze traveled down his body, and Matt became very aware of his dirty black jeans, sweat-stained gray T-shirt, and black leather jacket. Putting a self-conscious hand to his face, he could feel a beard grazing his cheeks.

"I just got off assignment," he said. "I don't usually look like this."

"What do you usually look like?"

"Well, not like this," he said in exasperation. "Look, I need some sleep, and you need to take care of this kid."

"That's not my baby. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but --"

"Nothing. Look, I'm a reporter for The Herald. I'd be happy to give you references, but right now we have to figure out what to do about this baby."

She stared at him doubtfully, then the baby let out a howl of protest. A second later she released the chain and stepped into the hallway, allowing Matt his first full glimpse of his neighbor. Barefoot, in faded blue jeans, a short-cropped bright yellow sweater, and a lacy white veil, she made quite an impression. But it wasn't just her crazy attire that caught him off guard, it was her gold-flecked brown eyes and the sun-streaked blond hair that cascaded halfway down her back when she self-consciously pulled off her veil.

"It's not what you think," she murmured.

"I wasn't going to ask."

She gave him an embarrassed half smile. "Good."

"So, wedding night fantasy with the boyfriend?"

"I thought you weren't going to ask."

"Sorry."

She stepped around him and knelt down next to the baby. "Oh, you sweet thing. Who are you?"

The baby squirmed in its seat. "I think it wants to get out," he said.

The woman undid the straps and slowly pulled the baby into her arms, a somber expression in her eyes as she looked at the infant then at him. "Are you telling me that this baby was just left here in the hall?"

"Looks like it. I'll see you later."

"Wait just a second. You're not leaving me with this baby."

"She's closer to your door than to mine."

"Don't even think about leaving me alone with this baby. We need to find her mother, and ..." she made a face, "we need to change her diaper." She stood up with the baby in her arms. "The landlord did tell me you were an okay guy, so you can come in. But I'm warning you I've taken self-defense, so don't try anything."

Matt bit back a smile. She was barely five foot three if she was an inch. He had almost a foot on her, and he didn't doubt he couldn't take her anywhere he wanted to go. But judging by the fierce expression in her eyes, he'd be better off agreeing, so he simply held up in his hand in submission. "All right, but you know Tae Bo aerobics doesn't qualify as self-defense."

"Very funny. Just bring the car seat and bag with you."

Matt followed her into her apartment, expecting to see something similar to his place, something clean and utilitarian with perhaps a feminine touch. What he saw was sheer chaos, layers and layers of white fabrics, silks and satins adorning the couch and the love seat, spools of threads, stacks of lace, a sewing machine in one corner, and a mannequin in the other. There were bridal magazines on the coffee table, boxes of pearls and beads, and swatches of ribbons on the floor in a discarded heap. "Oh, my God," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I think I'm having a nightmare, a single man's nightmare."

"Are you afraid?"

He looked at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded. He'd never been more afraid in his life. He had the terrifying feeling that this woman and this baby were going to change everything."